


Compensation

by Waffilicious



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: M/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual, Plasmids, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waffilicious/pseuds/Waffilicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a man and woman give Jack a gift of a strange plasmid, Jack finds the tables have turned for him and Atlas. But he doesn't think of the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compensation

**Author's Note:**

> Caz wrote the beginning and posted it on Tumblr and asked for someone to write the sexy bits, so I did. I don't think this is entirely what she was looking for but THIS IS WHAT SHE GOT. I'd like to apologize for how horrifying this is.

The plasmid is electric green, and the cap is shaped like a woman swooning. Jack stares at it, then reaches for an empty syringe.

 “Not necessary,” says the woman who gave it to him.

 “This one is edible,” says the man, who’s got to be her brother.

 “Drinkable, in fact.”

 “Although I can’t say you like the taste.”

 Jack shrugs. He’s eaten creme cakes out of corpses found in trash cans. He’s not really fussy about how things taste.

 He uncaps the bottle. The plasmid smells like thick perfume. He downs it, and finds that it tastes like perfume too, bearing in mind that perfume is really really not meant to be drunk.

 As he grimaces, spluttering, something snakes over his shoulder.

 He spins around, lifting the bottle as a weapon, but it spins with him and he realises it’s light. Green light. Electric green, just like the plasmid. And it undulates around him, creating shapes that make him shift on his feet, and remind him uncomfortably of the posters in Eve’s Garden.

 “What is it?” he demands as the light fades. Actually, he should probably have asked that before.

 “A handicap,” says the woman.

 “But not yours,” says the man.

 “More along the lines of…”

 “…compensating for yours.”

 “You took to it like a fish to water,” the woman assures him.

 Jack glares at her. He only understands about half of what they’re saying, and he’s sure they’re doing it on purpose.

 But before he can say anything else, they’re gone with the flickering light. Vanished. So he scowls instead. Splicer freaks.

 He still doesn’t understand why they gave the plasmid to him.

 And he doesn’t find out until later, when Atlas intercepts him and he remembers that it’s all happened before.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Atlas smiles at him, like he always does, smiles like they’re best friends and he’s so trustworthy and for a moment Jack believes it and… well he doesn’t smile back, but he nods.

 “All right there, boyo?” Atlas asks, and he’s so relaxed, so calm, like there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

 And then Jack remembers again. The struggling, the _would…_

_Would you…_

 ...he can’t even finish the phrase in his own goddamned head, much less say it aloud. He knows. He’s tried. He thought maybe if he could say it, he could stop himself from doing things he didn’t want to do in time. But they were smart, of course they were. Don’t hand the operating keys over to the weapon, you can’t let that happen. God knows what he’d be capable of.

But Jack’s got a set of keys of his own now, doesn’t he.

 Compensating for your handicap, they said. His hand glows the eerie, ethereal green and he looks down at it, at the wisps of curling smoke twining around his hand and wrist, and Jack looks back up at Atlas, who isn’t smiling anymore.

 “Whatcha got there, boyo?” He asks, and he stares.

 Jack lifts his hand.

 “Kid, what are you doing? Would you kindly…”

 But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Jack fires off the plasmid and the green smoke curls around Atlas’s face. He breathes it in and his eyes light up with verdancy and he falls silent.

 Jack grins. He steps forward and Atlas doesn’t move. Jack plants a hand on Atlas’s chest, but even when Jack pushes him back and slams him up against the wall, Atlas doesn’t resist. He just looks at him. Like he’s waiting.

 Waiting for a command.

 Jack can’t stop smiling.

 “God, I hope a part of you is watching this,” he says as he slides his hand up to circle ever-so-gently around Atlas’s throat. “I really want you to remember how this feels.” He licks his lips, and he hasn’t even done anything yet but already he feels more powerful than he’s ever felt, even with all his strength and plasmids and killing Big Daddies… no, this is more empowering than all of that combined.

 It’s overwhelming. Jack can’t even think of what he wants to do first. What does he even do with this?

 Well, first he has to make sure it’s doing exactly what he thinks it’s doing, otherwise he’ll be upset.

 “Touch your nose with your right hand.”

 It’s a simple command, but when Atlas instantly obeys, Jack feels a rush of satisfaction like nothing else.

 “Now with your left.”

 Again, obedience without hesitation. This is… this is too good. Jack unthinkingly rubs a sweaty palm down the front of his pants and realizes that he’s feeling a bit more than satisfaction at all this.

 He should probably think about consequences. Or implications. But the power has rushed to Jack’s head… and to his dick, and there isn’t much thought involved anymore.

 “Get on your knees,” he says with a shaking voice, full of anticipation, “and suck my dick.”

 Jack watches in amazement as Atlas slowly gets to his knees and undoes the front of Jack’s pants, and he still can’t quite believe it when the man lifts Jack’s cock out and proceeds to take it in his mouth.

 With a gasp, Jack throws his hands up to brace himself against the wall. A part of him wasn’t really expecting to be obeyed so completely, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Atlas to actually be good at this. Not that he has much of a frame of reference. Or any frame of reference, for that matter. But the man is licking a wide stripe up along the underside of his shaft and pressing his tongue across the head and taking him… oh god… all the way in…

 Jack’s moaning and panting and clenching his hands into fists against the wall and when he comes, Atlas swallows it all down and fuck that feels even better…

 

...right up until the moment Atlas stands and shoves him face-first against the wall.

 Shit. He didn’t even think about whether this thing might have a time limit.

 “Would. You. _Kindly_. _Never use that plasmid again_.” Atlas’s voice is a low, furious snarl, and Jack freezes, terrified, all of the power and satisfaction gone and forgotten. The moment is lost, his compensation gone. Without any conscious direction, the green smoke twisting around his hand disappears, and he knows he’ll never be able to bring it out again. The words had been said, the key used, and now it was locked away.

 “Now then,” Atlas growled. “Seems to me like you need to learn a lesson, _boyo_. Seems to me like you may have forgotten who’s in _charge_.”

 Jack knows he could overpower Atlas easily, but he’s petrified with fright. So he remains as he is, held up against the wall with Atlas leaning close behind him, furiously snarling into his ear.

 “So.” The way Atlas licks his lips so close to Jack’s ear, in much the same way Jack did earlier, makes Jack’s stomach turn. “ _So_. Would you kindly take off your clothes?”

 Atlas steps back to make room as Jack, without hesitation, takes off his sweater, his pants, everything. Atlas lights a cigarette, and smokes it, and Jack sneaks a look at him and sees the look of rage still on his face and he swallows.

 Once Jack is naked, Atlas steps up behind him once again and runs a hand up the length of his spine, making him shiver. Then, without a word, Atlas plants the lit end of the cigarette right between Jack’s shoulder blades, making him yelp in pain. Atlas grinds the butt in, tosses it aside, then plants his thumbnail on the burn and pushes.

 Jack yells and is driven forward into the wall again, his naked flesh pressed hard against the cold surface. With one hand driving into the tiny burn on Jack’s back, Atlas sticks two of his fingers in Jack’s mouth.

 “Suck, would you kindly.”

 Jack sucks, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to think about what’s going to happen next, but when the fingers are removed from his mouth and are unkindly pressed into his asshole, there’s no way he can avoid it.

 Fuck but it hurts. Jack is a man built to endure pain of all kinds, but this is a new sort of pain for him, and he cries out again and squirms against the wall until Atlas barks out, “would you kindly _hold still_ ,” and he’s frozen in place.

 What happens next is neither pretty nor pleasant. Atlas fucks Jack into the wall, and every moment is agony, and Atlas won’t let him forget it. The act itself is painful of course, but what really hurts are the constant commands Atlas growls. They’re tiny commands, meant to control everything Jack does, and Jack knows it. When Atlas is finally done, he pulls away, laughing, low and cruel.

 “Now then, boyo. Would you kindly forget you have that plasmid, would you kindly forget what you made me do, and would you kindly _remember_ just who it is you belong to.”

 Jack presses his forehead against the wall and his eyes go blank for a moment as his memory obligingly rearranges itself. He blinks, and he remembers.

 

He belongs to Atlas.

 


End file.
